My main point of concern - Do I have the energy to do this again? I’m not a first-time Mom...which is both good and bad. Good, because maybe I won’t feel so incompetent all the time and I’ll know a little bit about what I’m doing. Bad, because I know exactly what is coming. There’s no sugar-coating or hoping that this is going to be an easy transition. There’s no fear of the unknown for me, it’s the fear of the known...and it’s barreling down the highway at me at about 80 mph...not slowing down, not stopping...coming straight ahead.
Gosh, that sounds morose, huh? Maybe that’s just the lack of sleep talking. Currently it’s 2:14 am on Sunday night and I’m WIDE awake. Yep, having a little trouble sleeping...so maybe I shouldn’t post at times like this! Hahaha...
But in an effort to keep this blog a “real” chronicle of my pregnancy and journey into motherhood (again), I have to share these thoughts with you. When you’re not yet a parent you worry if you’ll be good enough. Then you become a parent and you worry if you’re doing it all okay – are you going to scar your child for life because you didn’t do A, B or C (take your pick as to what A, B and C could be!). Then you find out that you’re going to be a parent again...and the fear cycle starts all over.
Most days, I look at my daughter and I’m in awe. Literally in awe. The thought that I helped to create this little person who is SO unique and wonderful in every way is almost overwhelming. (Yes, there are still days that I would like to tear all of my hair out...but luckily now they’re few and far between!) She’s a wonderful little girl. I’m not immune or blind to her faults, for she has them just as we all do, but I also know how sweet, loving, helpful and kind she is. She’s the best of me, in a smaller package. And there’s just so much hope when I look at her...there’s no broken hearts, disillusionment yet...everything still looks peachy in her world, despite the fact that she grows up between two households, being the child of a divorced family. I worried endlessly during those days too...you can’t begin to imagine unless you’ve gone through it.
But you know what? It took a lot of work to get her there. She was born almost EIGHT years ago...and that’s a long time in between kids. I don’t know that I’m prepared for this new ride...I mean, I don’t have a choice, it’s fast approaching whether I’m ready or not, but I wonder some days if I’m mentally/emotionally/physically capable of doing all of this again. I’m not that old. Thirty-four this year...by the time little Ziggy is born, I’ll be 34. That’s not old. Lots of people start having kids in their late 30’s and early 40’s. But secretly, I wonder if they’re kind of crazy! Just kidding. 34 isn’t old. But it’s not young either. I was 25 when my daughter was born. Wow. What a difference. So much time has gone by...
Yet despite how utterly morose and depressing this post sounds, I’m THRILLED beyond belief to undertake this journey again. I’m constantly amazed by the changes that have been made – the new products that are out, how doctors feel differently about pregnancy issues than they did a few short years ago...it’s a constant learning process.
I can’t wait to meet my little man...I really can’t. As much as I might gripe and complain and worry about the coming days, I know that it will all be worth it in the end. And that I’ll cherish having him here with us more than I’ll miss my sleep. (I say that now...those are brave words!) I can’t wait to meet him and watch his personality grow, develop and emerge just as my daughter’s did...and then one day, I’ll be toting him around to T-ball practice just like I take her to soccer these days.
Time flies when you’re having fun, at least that’s what people tell you. And for the most part it’s true. They say that the first year of marriage is the hardest year – I wonder if that’s true for parenthood as well? At this point, I don’t remember that first year being that bad...yes, I vividly recall the crying, the pooping, the hours and hours on end of holding a crying baby, trying to figure out what was wrong so that she would just be quiet and let me sleep. I do remember all of that, and that’s why I worry about the upcoming months...but actually, looking back...it wasn’t really that bad.
Maybe that’s the thought that I should hold onto when my fears/worries start to get the best of me, huh?